Mind Trap Reid's POV
by myownmind
Summary: Reid knows something is up. No one else at the BAU believes him. He heads off on a solo hunt to prove he's right. Unfortunately things don't go as planned. He meets people he never wanted to, especially in the form of Agent Clint Barton. Do superheroes really exist? It's hard to tell because evil certainly does. Lots of hurt/comfort between two unlikely allies. Please see the A/N.
1. Chapter 1

Mind Trap Reid's POV

_A/N: Hello. I'm so sorry this has taken me so long. Life has gotten in the way and my muse went on vacation as well. Anyway, this is a collaborative effort with darkntwisted. She is writing this story from Clint Barton's point of view while I'm writing from Spencer Reid's. It's been a very long time since I've written a Criminal Minds story. I hope I'm not rusty but only time will tell._

_I hope you enjoy this version. I've used some of the information from darkntwisted's story because I had to. Otherwise the rest of it is all me. _

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Criminal Minds', 'Dr. Spencer Reid', or anything to do with the television show or the books. They belong to the company that owns them. I'm not making any money, I'm just having a lot of fun with their characters. The same goes for 'Clint Barton', 'The Avengers' or any of the other characters that might make their way into this story. **

Chapter One

A horn blared two feet from Dr. Spencer Reid's head, shocking him back to reality. It took all of his FBI training to keep from yanking on the steering wheel of his car, which would have sent him careening into the car beside him. Instead, he gently turned the wheel, bringing the car fully back into his own lane. He'd started to wander. Sweat broke out as the lean young doctor watched a tractor and its trailer pass by on his left.

"That was close," Reid muttered to himself. The statistics of surviving an accident with a fully loaded tractor trailer unit flashed through the brown haired man's mind. An involuntary shudder passed through his lean frame. Fully back in reality, Spencer realized he couldn't remember anything about the last twenty miles of his journey. That wasn't a good thing. The interstate he was following to get from Quantico, Virginia to Boston, Massachusetts was particularly busy today. Spencer supposed it had something to do with holiday traffic but in his distracted state he couldn't remember which holiday he should be celebrating. Memorial Day flashed through his mind. Yeah, that was right.

Swallowing thickly, Spencer reached beside him and retrieved a takeout coffee cup. The welcome aroma assailed his senses as he moved blindly, afraid to look away from the road again. He was only mildly surprised with the first mouthful to find that it had gone cold. Well, it wouldn't be the first time he'd been forced to drink gas station coffee well past its best before hour or even day. In a few seconds the cup was empty. Absently, he reached behind the passenger seat and put it in the foot well to join the two empty cups that were all ready there. He'd worry about cleaning up later.

Outside the window of Reid's car the world sped by. Despite his near miss with the semi, the young FBI profiler was only dimly aware of the other cars on the road and the scenery that flashed by on either side. Most of Dr. Spencer Reid's formidable mind kept worrying at the last conversation he'd had with his boss, Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner.

Reid still couldn't understand why Hotch had been so closed minded to the information he'd presented. He supposed the fact that all of the victims had officially been listed as dying from natural causes didn't help his case. But medical examiners had gotten cause of death wrong before. The statistics on that thought rattled through the back of Reid's all ready preoccupied mind. Maybe driving hadn't been the best idea after all. When he'd looked it up online, the trip was supposed to take four hours. Reid hadn't thought to take holiday traffic into consideration. Where were all these people going anyway?

The last conversation he'd had with Hotch played over and over again while Reid's unconscious mind kept him on the road and in the right lane. The team had gotten back yesterday from a particularly brutal case. Hotch had tried to talk the unsub off a roof after they'd cornered him but the eighteen year old boy had jumped rather than face prison or his deeply disappointed parents. The momentary flash of pain and defeat that Spencer had seen on his boss's face had surprised him as Hotch looked over the roof edge at the shattered body below. Then Aaron Hotchner's professional mask had descended over his handsome features once again. Reid knew that Hotch wasn't a robot, that he actually did feel things as deeply as the rest of them. He was usually much better at hiding his emotions though.

The trip home on the unit's jet had been deathly quiet. Aaron's dark mood had affected everyone else. AJ and Emily played a quiet came of cards, neither being in the mood to start on the mound of paperwork that would be waiting for them upon landing. Morgan had sprawled on the couch, his earphones keeping the sounds to himself. Rossi had sat across from Aaron, pretending to read a book. If he'd been paying attention he would have noticed that it was one of his own. His mind occupied with the case, Reid had been content to watch the card game. Occasionally he offered suggestions which both women ignored. As much as he wanted to, it didn't seem like a good time to broach the subject of commencing an investigation into a series of 'natural deaths' that led from Spokane, Washington to Los Angeles, California then currently to Boston, Massachusetts.

There hadn't been an invitation from local law enforcement. In fact, only Penelope Garcia, their computer tech extraordinaire had come up with any kind of connection between the victims but even that was rather tenuous. Male and female, blue collar and white collar, each victim had been at the top of their field. Each had access to company specific technology or information. Each had been in reasonably good health for their fast paced, high stress life styles. Each one had been found in their homes having suffered a massive heart attack or fatal stroke when none these diseases had been a danger according to their family doctors.

Reid had read Penelope's print outs three times before he'd believed the connections. Now the case wouldn't leave him alone. The doctor knew in his bones that something was going on. He just couldn't convince Hotch. The Unit Chief had scanned the victim profiles Spencer had given him. He'd paused long enough to run a hand over his tired looking face before he answered his profilers' eager gaze.

"There's no case here, Reid. Even if there was, we haven't been invited by the local jurisdictions." While the words hadn't been unexpected, they still took some of the wind out of Reid's sales.

"But," he'd started.

"Let it go, Spencer. We had a long weekend coming up. Enjoy the time off. But make sure you can be reached just in case," Aaron had said, turning his attention once more to the paperwork piled on his desk. As Spencer watched, his boss shifted the print outs he'd given him to the side before picking up a different file from the top of the pile.

"Have a good weekend," Spencer had parroted as he backed out of Hotch's office. A plan was all ready formulating in his mind. If Hotch didn't believe him, he'd find evidence that the former prosecutor couldn't dismiss so easily. Spencer had made his way to his desk running on auto pilot. He'd been too busy filling in the last few details of his plan. Nodding a good night to Morgan, who was the only other BAU member left in the office, Reid picked up his messenger bag and jacket and headed for the elevator doors. He had three days. That should be more than enough time.

OOOOO

Three hours after his near miss with the semi, Reid pulled onto the side of the road. He'd spent some time last night developing a geographical profile but he wanted to check it, to make sure he had his search area figured out. Pulling out the map of Boston he'd used last night, Reid examined it closely. It still showed him the same seven block area to search.

This was foolhardy. Reid knew it was incredibly stupid to be doing this alone. If he'd asked he knew Morgan would have sacrificed his weekend to have Spencer's back. But, if this turned out to be a wild goose chase, Spencer would feel guilty for wasting his friend's precious down time. They got so little of it.

Folding the map back up, Reid shifted his car into gear and cautiously pulled out into the holiday traffic once again. He still had six hours of daylight left. He'd search the nearest block and make his way from there. Maybe he could get it done today and be on his way home, no one any the wiser for his mistake.

OOOOO

Six hours later, Reid was pulling up onto the last block. He'd spent more time watching buildings than he'd planned on. After all, it wasn't like he could just walk into them and search them without a warrant. For most of the areas it hadn't really been a problem, in others more so. So it was that the area Reid was searching had transitioned from store fronts with upper level apartments to industrial warehouses. It made the last block that much faster to clear. It was dark. It was a really bad idea. But Reid was just tired enough that he threw caution to the wind and just wanted to get it over with. It had been an incredible waste of time. One he'd never admit to having been involved in. And yet, he had to finish what he'd started.

Not really worried about being seen, Reid pulled his car up to the curb, parked and turned off his headlights. He climbed out and stepped around to the trunk. From inside he pulled out his FBI wind breaker and his flashlight. Automatically he un-holstered his sidearm and set off across the street. He wanted to do a quick check of the perimeter before he tried to enter the first building on the block.

It was darker than Reid had expected as he made his way between the south side of the warehouse and a line of metal transport containers. The security lights inside the building streaming dully through the windows only made the darkness between the windows that much worse. God he hated the dark. He was glad of his flashlight as Reid slowly but carefully paced along with his left shoulder towards the brick wall of the warehouse. Along the brick wall and the metal walls of the containers weeds poked up. In an attempt to combat the invasive plants, the building maintenance had put down gravel. It had only been marginally successful. The gravel did kind of make the open space between look somewhat more cared for and a little cleaner but not much.

His mind was threatening to shut down. He'd been running on caffeine and adrenaline since leaving Hotch's office the night before. Now both chemicals had evaporated from his body leaving him exhausted and a little shaky.

Just this last block and he could find a hotel to spend the night. There was no way he was making the trip home tonight. The gravel under his feel tried to turn Reid's ankle, dragging him abruptly back to what he was doing. Hotch would be very disappointed in him.

Forcing his mind firmly back to the present, Reid steadied his flashlight and his gun and continued his search. Two more steps and the brick wall on his left seemed to take an abrupt jog to the left. Before he had a chance to pan his flashlight beam around the corner, something fast and hard came down, striking his hands. Startled by the suddenness and the incredible force, Reid dropped his gun and flashlight. In the split second before he had a chance to put Morgan's self defence lessons to work, he was grappling with someone taller and much stronger than himself in the dark.

Fighting the intense fear spiking through his system, Reid fought as well as he could but his assailant had the upper hand from the start. Almost effortlessly, his attacker was behind Reid, gripping his torso tightly with his right harm while his left held a knife against the profiler's throat. His heart hammering against his ribs, Reid went immediately still. The darkness surrounding them was all encompassing. Even his flashlight pointed behind him and had little effect on the black oiliness wrapped around him.

Unable to see, Reid turned to his other senses. The man holding him was taller than him, by around four inches. He was of similar body type but was incredibly strong. He smelled of an expensive soap and shampoo. His clothes were similarly well laundered. Whoever had him was not a homeless person as had been Reid's first guess. The man holding him was barely even breathing hard. Reid could feel the man's warm breath passing by his right ear.

"Hello," a too calm voice said. For a split second Reid thought his captor was speaking to him. Then he continued in the same calm manner. "I thought I saw you up there Agent Barton. Come down and join us, agent, or I'll kill the FBI agent right here."

The darkness and his fear caused a roaring in Reid's ears. Still, he knew his captor was speaking to someone else. It was kind of hard to concentrate while he breathed unevenly and his heart ran a marathon while the rest of him stood still. The only thing Reid was really aware of was the heat from his captor's body, pressed against his back, the man's arm around him and over his right shoulder. The gravel smelled of dirt, vegetation and other more unpleasant odors such as urine and garbage. A quick glance above he could just begin to make out stars. The lights of the city made them very hard to see.

The knife dug a little deeper against Reid's throat as the seconds ticked by. An involuntary grunt escaped the profiler's lips as images of having his throat slit played through his mind. Desperately he hoped the man holding him was actually speaking to a real human being and not to a figment of his imagination.

"Oh, that's right. You can't see what's going on down here in the dark. I have a knife pressed against the FBI agent's throat. I'll slice through his jugular and carotid artery before you can rescue him. So please join us," Reid heard his captor say behind him.

Silence stretched once again in the darkness. Reid had just decided his captor was delusional when he heard something solid land on the gravel to his left. He heard a subtle shifting in the gravel and a sharp intake of breath.

"Not quite as graceful as they say you are. Still, I will find you a challenge none the less," Reid's captor stated. Sweat had broken out on Reid's forehead and was running into his eyes, blurring his vision and causing his eyes to sting. Under his wind breaker sweat trickled down his sides and his back. How could he be so stupid? Now he'd gotten someone else caught in his folly.

"Come along now, Agent Barton." Reid felt someone slightly shorter than himself drawn up against his left shoulder. The hand across his chest was gone but the knife was still against his throat. He didn't have a lot of choices at the moment. Then they were being propelled forward. Reid could feel the smaller man limp slightly every time he stepped with his right leg. Despair welled up inside Reid, fighting to take control, to drag him down into its murky depths. Breathing unevenly, Reid robotically placed one foot in front of the other.

"The three of us are going to get to know each other very well," their captor stated.

The despair was getting the upper hand when Reid felt his fellow captive abruptly twist away. Then he was being pushed harshly away from their captor's body, the knife blade cutting through the first layer of skin. Hitting the ground momentarily winded Reid as there was suddenly a pair of headlights panning randomly across the scene. Agent Barton was trying desperately to fight the tall black haired man Reid assumed was their captor. While he struggled on the uneven gravel to reach his feet, the car headlights brought something to Reid's attention. Staying on the ground he scrambled the four feet before Reid gained his feet once more, his gun held in both hands as he turned towards the combatants.

He found Agent Barton on his knees, their captor gripping both of his fists. As he took a step closer Reid heard subtle cracks as Agent Barton gasped quietly.

"Let him go!" Reid warned in his fest official voice. He hoped neither man noticed the subtle tremble he tried to hide.

Their captor chuckled as he closed his hands tighter. The sound of snapping bones was audible. The tall black haired man let go. Agent Barton took a stumbling step backwards, holding his injured hands in front of him. The man took a step back, his legs hidden in the darkness. The headlights had stabilized momentarily, lighting their bodies from the waist up. Carefully, Reid kept his gun trained on their captor as he took a hesitant step towards the agent.

In a heartbeat, Agent Barton fell into Reid's legs, taking him by surprise and sending them both back to the ground. In a jumble of limbs and bodies, his gun skittered away from his hand. Damn it.

"Now that that's out of your system, shall we leave?" The man hadn't appeared to move and yet it took a few seconds for the two agents to extricate themselves from the ground and from each other.

Just as Reid regained his feet, Agent Barton once again attacked their captor. Nonchalantly, the man hit Barton on the side of the head. The blow wasn't particularly hard but there was s subtle scent of ozone and an electric crackle. Then the dark haired agent slumped to the ground, disappearing in the pool of darkness at their feet. Reid's mind was just coming up with options when the man turned towards him.

"Would you like to have a go as well, agent?" he asked. The confidence and condescension in the man's voice and face set Reid's teeth on edge. For a fleeting moment, he considered trying out his new self defense skills, if for no other reason than to knock some of the confidence off the man's face. Then Barton, a few feet away from Reid, moaned quietly.

"No," Reid said simply. He'd gotten Barton into this, he wasn't about to try to escape and leave the unconscious man behind. It wasn't like he could carry him very far. But then, they only had to get as far as Reid's car.

"Good," the man said, a little bit of smugness now on his thin, pale face. The car had come to a stop ten feet away from them, finally illuminating the entire scene. While the end of the darkness sent a wave of relief through Reid's mind and body, looking down at Barton's crumpled figure chilled his soul.

Car doors opened, followed by the sound of boots on gavel Reid had a sense that at least two people had joined them but he didn't bother to look up. At the moment it didn't really matter. He had nowhere to go.

"Let's get going," their captor said. He moved closer to Reid, gripped his shoulder and steered him towards the waiting vehicle. A quick glance over his shoulder, Reid saw two very burly men haul Barton up.

"Who are you?" Reid asked. He had nothing to lose and nervous energy was getting the best of him.

"I go by many names. Agent Barton knows me as The Reaper. Let's stick with that," the man said. Reid shivered. He wasn't sure if it was the cord that had settled into his stomach or the fear that had just landed there as well. For once he really wished he hadn't been right.

"Don't worry. We will have plenty of time to get acquainted," The Reaper said as they reached the SUV. Barton was thrown haphazardly into the back. They rolled him onto his stomach and flex cuffed his hands behind his back. The Reaper led Reid to the back as well. Before being put inside, both of the agents were searched and relieved of their phones and anything else that might be tracked. Lastly, Reid's hands were flex cuffed behind him as well. Letting go of Reid's shoulder, The Reaper looked expectantly at him. With a thick swallow, Reid carefully got into the back as well. Barton had wound up lying on his side, his stomach towards the barrier between the back and the second sets of seats. Reid shuffled a bit but wound up on his side with his stomach towards the agent's back. The speakers on either end were blaring rock music, effectively choking out all other sounds. Finally semi comfortable, Reid felt a heavy blanket thrown over them, obscuring their forms from outside the SUV as well as covering their heads so they couldn't see where they were going.

"Enjoy the ride," The Reaper purred. The tailgate of the SUV slammed shut. What had he gotten into? Reid wondered as the vehicle began to move. Rather than give in to fear and despair, Reid began to count under his breath. The Reaper had underestimated Dr. Spencer Reid. He followed the movements of the SUV and compared them to the map of Boston he'd poured over the night before. If they ever had a chance to escape this madness, Reid wanted to know where to run to. Against his chest, stomach and legs, Reid felt Barton shiver. They were going to need all the help they could get.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello out there! I can not express just how embarrassed I am that it's taken me this long to update this story. Real life has been rather brutal of late but that still doesn't excuse why I ignored this for so long. Please accept my heart felt apology. I will do better from now on. _

_Thanks to Pinterest I've gotten my inspiration back. Unfortunately, it also seems to take a great deal of my time. That's on me once again though. If you are still interested, this is the next chapter. I hope it lives up to your expectations. Please let me know what you think. Enjoy!_

CHAPTER TWO

The world came into focus slowly. When it did Reid was shaken to his core. What the hell? He had no memory of their arrival or of being moved out of the vehicle. They could be anywhere! Any map he'd managed to process during the trip no longer applied. Fear bubbled up as Reid carefully took in his surroundings. The fear tried to transform into full fledged panic.

In front of him his mother was huddled in a chair, staring at him with wide, pleading eyes. The room around them was the same as it was during his worst nightmares. This was the day he'd turned 18 and had his mother committed. It was the worst day of his life.

Bile rose into the back of his throat while Reid breathed harshly, trying to digest what was happening. He could hear the terror and anger in his mother's voice as she begged him to please not send her away. He could remember the anguish the decision had caused him. His mind skittered sideways, trying desperately to avoid having to relive this. But the logical, responsible part of him took a mental step back.

None of this made sense. He could feel the shoes on his feet, the carpet under his feet, the heat of a Las Vegas day pressing down on his skin. He could smell the fear rolling off his mother in waves and the aftershave of the two men behind him, ready to take his mother bye could smell the fear rolling off his mother in waves and the aftershave of the two men behind him, ready to take his mother b force if necessary.

Blinking heavily lidded eyes, the young FBI agent pulled them away from his mother and turned his attention to the details of the room. The title of three of the fifty books arranged around the room were wrong. The colour of his mother's clothes was slightly off. The scene outside the window was slightly less vibrant in the Nevada sun.

With a physical wrench and a long blink of his eyes, Reid found himself in a brightly lighted room. The walls were white tile but otherwise featureless. He was sitting, restrained in a soft chair, his wrists, waist and ankles were secured to straps that came out of the bed of the chair. A better look revealed that he was reclined on a seat very much like a dentist's chair with the ability to adjust it's height and level of recline. Beside him the man who'd been captured with him was slumped in a similar chair, his breath coming out in rapid gasps but he seemed to be unconscious.

The chairs were attached to the ground but they were the only features in the room. Even the lighting was hidden behind an opaque plastic screen high up in the ceiling. Reid expected there to be a one way mirror on the far wall but it too seemed to just be a tiled wall. He couldn't quite figure out where the door was in the seamless structure all around him.

Then, with a start, Reid realized that they weren't alone in the room. Behind him, just beyond his normal range of sight, the man who'd captured them was sitting in a chair, his hands hovering on either side of his head.

"Get away from me," Reid ordered as he tried to pull away. How he hadn't noticed the man earlier was beyond him. It was like he hadn't existed until Reid had become aware of him. How was that possible?

"My, my," the man said. Even from behind him, Reid could hear the smile on the man's face. Then the man rolled his chair around until it was two feet in front of Spencer. There was a disturbing intensity burning in the man's blue eyes. Instantly, Reid felt like an insect under a microscope.

"You really are a surprise," the Reaper stated. "I'm going to enjoy pulling your mind apart."

"What are you talking about?" Reid asked, trying desperately to figure out what was going on. The room must have some kind of ventilation system because he could feel a gentle whiff of fresh air flow over his body. The room itself was around 70 degrees Fahrenheit, not too hot, not too cold. There was a vague scent of strong cleaners that permeated the air making Reid think of a hospital. That image was fortified by the white tiles on the walls. Damn, how he hated hospitals.

"Even your friend here took longer to see through my reality. I thought he was special. Now I know better," he continued, the smile never leaving his perfect mouth. While he spoke, the Reaper carefully pulled a black leather glove over first his left hand and then his right.

"What do you want from us?" Reid asked. He needed to keep asking questions, to find out more information. The longer he could keep this unsub talking, the longer he gave his team to find him. Hopefully, the man beside him, hadn't he called him Agent Barton, had a team that was going to be looking for him too. That would increase their chances of being found exponentially.

"Information. The very thing you are hoping to find," the Reaper answered. He shuffled his chair a little bit closer. Reid felt his skin start to crawl. He really didn't like to have people this close to him, especially a stranger. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised by your intelligence. After all, you are the only person to put the clues together. To realize that all those people had not died of natural causes."

"You killed them," Reid stated, relief flooding through his system that he wasn't crazy after all. Then reality set back in. Being right wasn't going to keep him or Agent Barton safe. The man smelled of mouth wash, soap and a spicy tang that he couldn't quite place. While Reid could feel sweat gathering in his arm pits and along his spine, the Reaper appeared to be freshly dressed in his black, expensive, perfectly tailored suit. The man's hands were soft and well manicured, he remembered that from before he put the gloves on. His black hair was carefully coiffed as was his face. Clearly, he took very good care of himself.

"Well, technically, their bodies killed them," the Reaper answered, a cold smile spreading across his thin lips. The blue eyes continued to scrutinize Reid. Adding fire to his flaming sense of discomfort. As subtly as he could, Spencer pulled against the restraints on his wrists to see if there was any chance at all of him getting loose. Of course there wasn't. A deep sigh tried to force it's way through Reid's body. "Am I boring you?"

"Um," Reid hedged as he brought his attention fully back on the man beside him. God, he really needed a cup of coffee, or twelve. Whatever the man had done to him to bring him here, whether drugging him or knocking him unconscious, was still hampering his cognitive abilities, making the doctor too easily distracted. The thought of having been drugged spiked Reid's blood pressure as his heart hammered. Please, not that.

"Ah," the Reaper said, a strange sparkle in his eyes. From this distance he could see that the man's eyes were not entirely blue, there were a few brown speckles and a few green ones within the sea blue irises. Damn, but this guy really didn't understand the concept of personal space. "You fear being drugged, not in complete control of your mind and body."

How the hell did he know that? Reid could see all the statistics on the probability of the man having ESP flash through his mind. There was no logical, sane explanation of the dark haired man could have seen that. And yet, he'd said it right after the young doctor had thought about it. There was far too much going on here that Reid could not in all logic figure out. That alone was more than enough to send of spike of terror through his mind and body.

"That will make this so much easier," the Reaper purred. As Reid started to struggle against his restraints with renewed vigour, his breathing hitched and accelerated. The Reaper's hand disappeared somewhere beyond the head of his chair. The rest of the man's body seemed to darken and expand, taking all the breath and light out of the room.

"Leave the kid alone," a haggard voice grated from Reid's right side. He could no longer see Agent Barton because the Reaper was too close, his left shoulder and chest were in the way. Suddenly Spencer wished he could see the older man.

"Wait your turn, Agent Barton. I will be getting to you once I'm finished here." Reid could see the amusement playing over the man's face. He was thoroughly enjoying the power he had over the two captives. Automatically the BAU agent's profiling skills raced through the personality traits the unsub had demonstrated so far. None of them were particularly reassuring.

Unconsciously, Reid swallowed thickly as he saw the arm came back into his field of view. A hypodermic needle filled with a clear liquid was clenched in the leather gloved fingers. Despair threatened to take Reid's breath away. He'd fought these demons before. He wasn't so sure that he had it in him to fight them again. Memories of the dark days of his drug addiction floated in the back of his mind while he tried to get a hold of his body. The unsub was far too aware of how his actions were affecting him. If he had any chance at all, Reid was going to have to find a way to hide his true thoughts and feelings. A plan of action was rapidly taking form as the special agent peered back at his captor.

"Who is Gideon?" the Reaper asked, his blue eyes staring intently at his sweat slick face. Swallowing bile, Reid felt panic erupting from his stomach sending his heart and mind into overdrive. This can't be happening!

"Leave the kid alone," Agent Barton growled once again from behind the Reaper's back. Through the rushing in his ears, Reid could just make out the sounds of struggling at the man tried, with as much success as he'd had, to break out of his chair. "You want to pick someone's brain, pick on someone your own age."

"Well, I will need to give the drugs a few minutes to kick in," the unsub smiled. Screaming silently in his head, Reid watched as the needle was moved down to his arm. Sweat was beading on his forehead and the rest of his body. Spencer's breathing had shifted from laboured to hyperventilation. He'd started to shake but still he couldn't move his body more than half an inch off the chair. Struggling had made the veins stick out that much better on Reid's arm so it was virtually effortless for the Reaper to inject the liquid into his blood stream. "Don't worry, Special Agent Spencer Reid, I'll be back shortly."

With that, the presence that had been too close, too menacing, abruptly slid out of Reid's line of sight. If there was any sense of relief at finally having his personal space back, it was overshadowed by the full blown panic attack that had taken over. His veins burned as the drug travelled up his arm, through his palpating heart and into his brain. If felt like someone had set fireworks off in his skull. A moan escaped as Reid sank into his own personal hell.


End file.
